If you’re wondering why in God’s name I’m voluntary wandering around West Kendall on a sacred date night, fear not – I have not suffered a concussion or been taken against my will. This is, however, illustrative of what happens when you insist on trying to wrap up a phone conversation while simultaneously gesturing to your husband as he heads in the direction of your flailing hand signals that should have been pointing east when you were, unfortunately, directing west. Don’t point and talk, kids.
But I digress. Because venturing around Kendall makes for good blog fodder and vivid imagery, mainly produced by the neon lights at the Village Diner and Romero Britto’s insatiable desire to imprint on anything standing still long enough to get a healthy coat of kaleidoscopic glitter paint.
So what’s a girl to do? Well, what did Alice do? She painted the roses red with the rest of them. And so I did as the Kendallites do and enjoyed some time with my man by having some grub at the aforementioned greasy spoon, perusing the magazine racks for some quality glossies, and waiting around for a heavily-marketed summer flick that was delayed due to “technical issues” for about 45 minutes (you don’t want to miss the pic below; the screen was in that state for about 15 minutes following a half-hour period of plain old darkness).
But, if I’m honest, I’ll admit that it wasn’t really that bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all. I mean, will I volunteer for another night of dark-screen gazing and overcooked frites-consumption? Well, possibly. But that’s not the point. The point is that my honey took me on a date and made Kendall tolerable, blog-worthy, and even kinda nice. And you’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’d probably feel just as syrupy as I do right now.
So I give you my date-night highlights for your enjoyment and edification. And a word to the wise: Always head east.
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